Not Quite Shakespeare
by Diana Lucifera
Summary: It’s a tale as old as time. Psychotically-Shy Weasley meets Socially-Deplorable Malfoy and it’s love at first sight! Well, no. More like absolute loathing. But, with the help of matchmaking teachers, Romeo and Juliet, and a WHOLE lot of luck, who knows?
1. Be Your Tears Wet?

**Title:** Not Quite Shakespeare  
  
**Author:** Novalee Sims

**Disclaimer:** Yes, I own Harry Potter! It's MINE! ALL MINE!!! whisper whisper Wait, I don't? Okay, well, never mind then.  
  
I haven't read the fifth book yet, so just disregard any and all conflicting information. It's not my fault. Besides, I like my world better.  
  
**Note:** After reading the really, really funny Ultimate Bad Fic thread on portkey.org, I decided to read back over this story. Anything that either freakishly differed from canon (GoF and below) or sounded as if the words "like" or "totally" should be in the sentence was edited/deleted.

* * *

_Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face.  
  
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek  
  
For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.  
  
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny  
  
What I have spoke : but farewell compliment !  
  
Dost thou love me ? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'  
  
And I will take thy word : yet, if thou swear'st,  
  
Thou mayst prove false ; at lovers' perjuries,  
  
Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,  
  
If though dost love, pronounce it faithfully :  
  
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,  
  
I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay,  
  
So thou wilt woo ; but else, not for the world.  
  
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,  
  
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havier light :  
  
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true  
  
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.  
  
I should have been more strange, I must confess,  
  
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,  
  
My true love's passion : therefore pardon me,  
  
And not impute this yielding to light love,  
  
Which the dark night hath so discovered._

__

* * *

Draco Malfoy closed the book with a snap. Muggle rubbish, all of it. How could he be expected to pass an exam when he couldn't understand what the bloody wench was saying? And what of that, too? Muggle books in a wizard school. Muggles weren't forced to study wizard books, now were they? Well, muggles didn't really know about wizards but... Well, honestly that just didn't matter, at least in this particular rant.  
  
"Does everyone understand that last line?" The new professor's glasses slid down her nose as she tried to brush a rogue piece of blond hair out of her face. "Does anyone have any questions?"  
  
Beside him, Pansy raised her hand slowly.  
  
"Yes, Pansy?" The women seemed quite pleased that someone had actually listened to her. This was obviously her first teaching job. "You have a question?"  
  
"Yeah. Umm. What?"  
  
"You didn't understand?" The girl looked surprised when Pansy nodded. "Well, which part confused you?"  
  
"Pretty much everything after 'thou'." Pansy looked apologetic.  
  
"Mr. Weasley?" She looked over to the Gryffindor side of the classroom.  
  
Ron Weasley nearly jumped out of his skin.  
  
"Oh. Yeah?" He yawned sleepily.  
  
"Would you like to explain the passage to Miss Parkinson?"  
  
Draco smirked. This would be good.  
  
"Well, umm, apparently this Juliet girl, she, well, she's blushing and, something about Romeo?" Ron stammered out, while flipping through the pages frantically.  
  
"Does anybody want to explain this paragraph? Anyone at all?" Her gaze swept the classroom for some sort of response. "Does anyone even understand any of this? Well?" She was met with silence.  
  
Normally, Granger would be having a spaz attack right about now but, oddly, she didn't have this class. The whole class was odd, not even counting the completely inexperienced Professor Sinclair. It was an mixture of fifth, sixth, and seventh year students thrown together. Most were from Gryffindor or Slytherin but there were a handful of Hufflepuffs and even a couple of Ravenclaws sprinkled here and there.  
  
In the very back of the Gryffindor section a hand cautiously raised itself over the heads of some inattentive seventh years.  
  
"Umm, Professor Sinclair?" A tiny voice said shakily.  
  
"Yes?" The professor asked unenthusiastically while rubbing the bridge of her nose.  
  
"Well, is Juliet saying that, well I'm probably wrong but, is she maybe saying that she knows that she should be, you know, playing hard to get but since he heard her talking about how much she, well, loves him and she doesn't really see the point? And she wants to know if he loves her back, but she's afraid that he doesn't really, even though she knows that if he said 'yes' she'd believe him?"  
  
Professor Sinclair's eyes snapped open.  
  
"That's exactly right! That's, well, that's wonderful!" She stood up, smiling broadly. "Good job, Miss...?"  
  
"Weasley." The voice said timidly.  
  
Every head in the classroom whipped around to stare at the small girl who sunk down in her chair, blushing furiously.  
  
Draco was floored. A Weasley? Well, he'd known Ron Weasley had a little sister, he vaguely remembered her from his second year, but he had kind of forgotten her in the last couple of years. He turned slightly to get a good look at her.  
  
She was petite, not at all like her brother. Her face was thin, with huge brown eyes that seemed to take up nearly half of her face, set in a deer-in- the-headlights expression as she cowered under all of the stares. There was a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and her hair was most definitely Weasley hair. It was pulled back in a messy bun with wild, red curls springing loose everywhere. She more that slightly resembled a mouse. The kind of person that blended into the wallpaper, Draco thought.  
  
"Why don't you come down here?" The blond professor gushed, completely oblivious to the dismayed expression on the young girls face.  
  
Draco felt a tiny pang of sympathy as the littlest Weasley walked shakily down the isle, which was quickly crushed with one word. _Weasley_.  
  
He half watched as Professor Sinclair continued to ask the girl about Romeo and Juliet, bouncing around like a little kid on Christmas.  
  
"Well, class!" The woman shouted, her glasses perched precariously on the side of her face. "I have an announcement! To help you understand this beautiful work of literature, I have decided that we are going to do a little project!"  
  
"Woo hoo." Blaise Zabini whispered sarcastically from her seat next the Draco.  
  
"Instead of reading Romeo and Juliet, we are going to be living it!"  
  
Everyone merely stared at her.  
  
"I mean, we'll be acting it out!" She exclaimed excitedly. " With costumes and everything! You know, like a play!" She grinned expectantly at the group of students.  
  
Draco couldn't resist. He just couldn't.  
  
"Why?" He spoke up.  
  
"Why? What could you possibly mean?"  
  
She had answered him. This muggle-loving airhead had no idea who she was dealing with. No one, but no one ever answered him. He had the sudden urge to rub his hands together while laughing maniacally. Instead he leaned back in his seat, a self-righteous smirk set on his face.  
  
"I mean, you twit, that I just don't see the point." He drawled. "When will we need any of this in real life? I don't know about you, but I really don't really need to know how to say 'I'm a sentimental loser in puffy tights' in old English, thanks."  
  
"W-what?" Professor Sinclair gasped out in shock.  
  
"Well, let me break it down for you. A: It's muggle, which basically means it's crap." Draco continued, ignoring several muggle-born Gryffindors who had to be tackled before they strangled him. "B: It's not like we can understand any of it anyway. C: Where's the plot? True love? Star-crossed lovers? Love-at-sodding-first-sight? Bahh." He finished with a flourish.  
  
The Slytherins all grinned at him, a couple of the seventh years applauding. Malfoy was always good for a laugh. Maybe this class wouldn't be so bad after all.  
  
"Well, at least you retained the star-crossed lovers part." Professor Sinclair said after a moment, instantly wiping the smug look off of Draco's face and triggering a snort of laughter from Ron Weasley.  
  
"As I was saying before," She continued. "We will be acting out Romeo and Juliet. And I think, that Miss Weasley would be absolutely perfect for Juliet."  
  
She grinned at the undersized Gryffindor, who looked as if she might throw up.  
  
"I'll be assigning the rest of the parts Monday. Have a good weekend." Professor Sinclair shouted over the bell. "You too, Juliet!" She exclaimed, clapping girl on the back, completely ignoring the horrified look on her face.  
  
As Draco made his way out of the classroom he caught sight of little Weasley trying without success to push her way through the crowd, a tiny tear sliding down her face.  
  
Draco felt an alien sense of pity rush through him. Frowning to himself, he made a decision. No Weasley ever made Draco feel sorry for them. Well, if that was the way it was going to be, he'd give her something to cry about.  
  
Draco Malfoy was no softy.

* * *

Ginny Weasley tried desperately not to cry as a sixth year pushed her out of his way. Her heart was still beating like a rabbits from her encounter with Professor Sinclair.  
  
Ginny was no social butterfly, in fact the very thought of getting up in front of that classroom again made her feel nauseous. And getting up there every day with some boy she didn't know or, worse, a boy she did know, well, she didn't even want to think about it.  
  
A tear escaped and rolled down her face. Ginny tried desperately to wipe her eyes as she finally escaped the classroom. She was so absorbed with attempting to rid her face of any sign of crying that she failed to see the perfectly polished black boot in her path until it was to late.  
  
With a little Oh! Ginny went tumbling to the ground, her books falling all around her. Opening her eyes she found herself staring at the shoes that had tripped her. Raising her eyes slowly she saw black robes, a gleaming Slytherin badge, and a little further up still, the face of the very last person she wanted to see.  
  
Draco Malfoy stared down at her, grinning maliciously.  
  
"Hullo, Weasley."

* * *

Well, there you go. I know it's a little short but I'll try to get another one up as soon as possible and--- you'll live right? You HATE me!  
  
Love it? Hate it? Want to burn me at the nearest stake? Let me know! This is just a teeny bit different from my usual writing (you know it actually has a PLOT), so tell me what you think.

In case you forgot, this little button here? Yeah, that's the review button. Press it! It's fun! Promise!


	2. A Deed Without a Name

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, don't you think this would be happening for real? I'm not JK Rowling and if I were I would probably kill off Harry Potter and make it the "Draco Malfoy" series. Hence the reason I am not ever going to be allowed to write it, even if JKR dies somehow before it's finished (NOOO!!!).  
  
And no I'm not Shakespeare, either. He's dead. Or at least, that's what the CIA wants you to think. He's really on Mars with Elvis. But they don't have computers there, so...

**Butterfly kisses3:** Heheh. I knew that. Madame Pomfrey, HA! I went back and fixed in. Thanks for telling me!  
  
Enough of my rambling. Read on!

* * *

Ginny Weasley looked up at the boy standing over her and mentally cursed Professor Sinclair. Five years of completely avoiding Draco Malfoy, all wasted in a single, sodding day.  
  
_'Please go away.'_ She prayed silently, squeezing her eyes shut. _'Please, please go away.'  
_  
"Awww." She heard him sneer. "Did the ickle Weasley fall down?"  
  
_'Just ignore him, Ginny. Just ignore him and he'll go away.'_  
  
Opening her eyes, she took in the crowd of Slytherins gathering behind Malfoy. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini stood beside him. Theodore Nott and several of the Slytherin Quidditch teams members, whose names she didn't know, were close behind. They were all wearing the exact same smirk. It had to have been some kind of Slytherin requirement.  
  
"You know, I kind of like submission on you Weasleys. It's fitting."  
  
Ginny bit her bottom lip, concentrating on collecting her books and most definitely not looking at the Sixth Year Slytherin who stood over her.  
  
This obviously wasn't working. Just as she reached for her Potions book those stupid boots of his shot out, sending it flying across the hallway.  
  
"Hey!" Slipped out before she could stop it. She instantly knew it was a mistake.  
  
"I'm sorry, what was that?"  
  
Ginny scrambled to retrieve her book only to have him step into her path.  
  
_'Please, just leave me alone.'_  
  
Draco Malfoy looked down at the top of Ginny Weasley's head. Lifting her head slightly, she tried to go around him. Draco quickly sidestepped, once again blocking her way.  
  
"Do you have something to say to me Weasley?" He asked, in his nastiest voice.  
  
Shaking her head, she continued trying to reach around him.  
  
"I can't hear you."  
  
Her eyes darted up at him then back at the floor, shaking her head harder this time.  
  
"What? Did you say something?" He continued, mockingly.  
  
He moved out of her way slightly allowing her to reach behind him. As soon as her fingers closed around the book he roughly grabbed the book bag she held in her other hand.  
  
"No?" He sneered cruelly as he yanked it off her arm, sending the bags contents flying.  
  
An inkwell rolled in between them. Trembling, she reached out to grab it. Just as her hand was an inch from the small, glass bottle, he brought his foot down on it with a Crunch.  
  
She made a soft little sound and the tears finally came. Shaking uncontrollably she whispered something very quietly.  
  
"Please go away."  
  
Draco was suddenly overwhelmed again with that strange emotion. Was it guilt? Surely not. Trying to swallow the lump that had gathered in his throat, Draco gestured to the other Slytherins gathered around him.  
  
"Come on, then. Let's go." Looking over his shoulder, he grinned mockingly. "See you around Weasley."  
  
As he neared the hall door, he glanced back at the tiny redhead. She was still on the ground, trying to pick up the pieces of her inkwell. She was sobbing pitifully and her fingers were cut and bleeding from the broken glass.  
  
Letting the rest of the Slytherins pass by him, he walked back slowly.  
  
He stopped in front of her and she looked up at him, startled. Her brown eyes were swimming and her nose was red. She had a black smear across her cheek where she had tried to wipe her tears away.  
  
Wondering distantly what exactly he was doing, he gently tapped her bloody hand with his wand. She gaped up at him as the cuts heeled and the blood disappeared.  
  
"Stop being so pathetic, Weasel." He said, in not quite as mean of a tone as before. "It's not that bad."  
  
And with that Draco turned and strode stiffly out of the hall. He didn't look back, but as he walked out of the double doors he could still feel her confused stare on his back.  
  
Pansy was waiting for him, leaning against one of the walls. He nodded to her and without a word she pushed herself off of the wall and walked beside him as he passed. In a baffled haze, he barely heard her question.  
  
"What was that all about?"  
  
_'Yes,'_ He thought to himself. _'What_ was _that all about?'_

__

_

* * *

_

Professor Clair Sinclair made her way to the Hogwarts Teachers Lounge pondering the scene she had just witnessed, from the cruel tormenting of the little Fifth Year she had chosen to be Juliet to the very odd plot twist that had taken place afterwards. She didn't quite know what to think of this Draco Malfoy character. His comments in class had been most irking and his behavior toward Miss Weasley had done nothing to redeem him, but she couldn't help wondering if he was really all he pretended to be. After all, he had healed her hand. Not very nicely, but he hadn't _had_ to do it.  
  
She reached the door and flipping through her notebook franticly she found the password, 'Polygonalius'.  
  
The Staff Room in Hogwarts was very different from a muggle teachers lounge. This year, it was a spacious, circular room with soft, white tile. There were several leather bound couches and chairs here and there and whoever had designed the room had obviously made an extra attempt to exclude any house colors in the layout. After a few days in Hogwarts, Professor Sinclair was beginning to see why.  
  
In the middle of the room there was a large glass table, which had no legs but hovered a few feet from the ground. There were several chairs gathered around it, making a sitting area. A couple of teachers sat at it, some eating and some grading papers.  
  
Professor Sinclair plopped down into a seat next to a miserable- looking man, who was reading while he waited for the potion he was brewing in the enormous cauldron next to him boiled.  
  
"Hi!" She grinned widely. His eyes flicked up at her and then back to his book. "I'm Professor Sinclair, the new Muggle Arts teacher." She said. He regarded her outstretched hand scornfully. Sneering, he turned his attention back to the book.  
  
"Don't mind Professor Snape, Miss Sinclair. He's always like that." A middle aged women on her other side cut in. "I'm Minerva McGonagall. Welcome to Hogwarts."  
  
Professor Sinclair smiled, while scooting her chair further away from the scowling professor next to her.  
  
"You had your first upper-house class today, didn't you?" The women continued. "How was it?"  
  
"Interesting enough." Professor Sinclair answered. "Everyone is enjoying Romeo and Juliet. I knew they would! Except for that Malfoy character. I don't know what crawled up his...."  
  
"I wouldn't worry about Mister Malfoy if I were you." Professor McGonagall broke her off. "He's always been a _disdainful_ human being."  
  
"I wouldn't say disdainful." Professor Snape cut in, finally putting down the book. "A bit high-strung maybe, but he really isn't that bad...."  
  
"If you're a Slytherin, you mean." A teacher said from across the table.  
  
"Maybe if you're a Slytherin." Another professor volunteered. "I doubt he likes anyone, really."

"Except his father, that is." Chirped another.  
  
"I'm sure he's nice at times." Professor Sinclair offered favorably, a childish idea forming in the back of her brain.  
  
"Please. That boy couldn't be nice if he _tried_!"

* * *

"You felt sorry for her, so you decided to mock her until she was a quivering mass of a human being?" Pansy asked, incredulously.  
  
"You have some sort of complex, you know that?" Blaise offered from her seat on the couch.  
  
Draco didn't know why he had told Pansy any of this. Maybe he had forgotten for a moment that, unlike Crabbe and Goyle, Pansy had opinions and she wasn't afraid to share them. Unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle were in the Hospital Wing recuperating from a horrible accident involving a chicken bone and a pair of hedge clippers.  
  
"You know Draye," Theodore Nott spoke form his perch on the back of the sofa, mouth full of chocolate frog. "You should see a psychologist."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes in irritation.  
  
"You have serious mental issues." Blaise stated.  
  
"Don't call me Draye, Nott, or I'll have your heart for a bludger." Draco glowered at one of his chasers before turning his attention to the other, Blaise. "And I do not have mental issues. I just hate Weasleys."  
  
"Uhhuh, sure." Theodore replied under his breath. "Psy-co."  
  
"Look, if I want your opinion I'll ask for it." Draco turned on him. "I don't know what in Merlin's name possessed me to tell you anything, but you know... whatever. I've got homework."  
  
Turning, he stormed up the stairs.  
  
"Touch-y." He heard Nott state as he left.  
  
"Shut up, Nott." Pansy snapped.  
  
Draco glared a nearby candleholder into submission.  
  
'What is wrong with me lately.' He wondered angrily.  
  
Draco had had a very confusing summer. One full of wondering and infuriating doubts about his father and "The Cause". Somehow, everything had made much more sense before Lucius had been committed to Azkaban. Draco had always wanted to be a Deatheater, but now... it just seemed so completely futile.  
  
_'I'm loosing it.'_ Draco thought. _'I'm going soft.'_  
  
Even confiding in Pansy and the others had shown how badly he was slipping. It wasn't like they were his friends, not really. After all, Malfoys didn't need friends.  
  
And that Weasley...  
  
Draco didn't really regret being cruel to her. He was cruel to everyone. It was an everyday occurrence.  
  
What worried him though was the strange swell of pity towards her. The one that had caused him to turn around, to heal her hand, and even to pick on her in the first place.  
  
It wasn't Draco.  
  
But maybe it was. Maybe he wasn't the same Draco that he had been before. But that sounded corny and stupid, like something Potter would say.  
  
Malfoy's didn't think things like that.  
  
And Draco was always a perfect Malfoy.

* * *

Ginny sat at her favorite table in the library, rereading Romeo and Juliet. Understanding it was easy, but memorizing it would prove much more difficult.  
  
Especially with thoughts of Draco Malfoy bouncing around her brain.  
  
Torturing innocent underclassmen wasn't a surprising action for Malfoy to take. But being even a tiny bit civil, not to mention nice, to them... that was very, very surprising.  
  
Once again, Ginny inspected her hand to make sure it wasn't going to fall off or blow up.  
  
She almost wished it would. Then she could concentrate on learning the play. What was different about Malfoy lately?  
  
She had noticed a decrease in the time he spent torturing "the Dream Team", however not significantly enough for them to notice. And he hadn't been spending as much time with Crabbe and Goyle. But he still had the Malfoy sarcasm, still had that cruel smirk and hateful, glittering, ferret eyes of his.  
  
Shrugging, she gathered her things as Madame Pince began to extinguish the chandeliers in the library.  
  
Probably just having an off day, she decided. It didn't mean anything.

* * *

Back in the Slytherin dorms, Draco had come to the same conclusion. A little rest, and he'd be back to his old self. No big deal.  
  
Just as he reached over to extinguish the candle on his bedside table, a school owl came bursting through his doorway. It dropped a small parcel on his lap and, without waiting for his reaction, flew out of his room and continued down the hall.  
  
Draco read over the sheet of parchment, feeling, as he so often did, very, very bored.

_Hello Students!  
  
Just wanted to let you all know that the parts for Romeo and Juliet have been assigned. They are as follows: _

_Prince Escalus- Justin Flinch-Fletchley  
  
Paris- Michael Corner  
  
Capulet- Ron Weasley  
  
Lady Capulet- Pansy Parkinson   
  
Tibalt- Terence Higgs  
  
Nurse- Luna Lovegood  
  
Gregory- Dean Thomas  
  
Sampson- Seamus Finnegan  
  
Benvolio- Harry Potter  
  
Mercutio- Geoffrey Hooper  
  
Balthasar- Terry Boot  
  
Friar Laurence- Neville Longbottom  
  
Montague- Theodore Nott  
  
Lady Montague- Blaise Zabini  
  
Juliet- Ginny Weasley _

_Blah, blah, _blah_... _

__

Everything so far had been typical but the next line Draco read was the one that made him give a cry of shock and go tumbling off of his bed.

* * *

Okay, yeah. I guess that was kind of a pathetic attempt at a cliffhanger even though you all know what surprised him.  
  
If I forgot any names on the cast list, just pretend that were after "what Draco read". I have currently misplaced my copy of Romeo and Juliet. I foresee problems.  
  
By the way, did anyone notice Michael Corners name on the cast list. PLOT BUNNIE ATTACK!!!

**About Ginny's extreme OOC-ness...** Here ya go:

takes deep breath

As I have mentioned before, at the time of this plot's conception, I HAD NOT READ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Once I did (and even before that, thanks to rampant spoilers), I discovered that Ginny Weasley was not the shy little girl that many of us thought her to be. This fic is BASICALLY AU, meaning it takes a different turn from canon, starting at GoF. So, STOP TELLING ME Ginny is out of character! I know already (Thaelia!).

Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Everyone was very kind about it and it WAS constructive critism. I just thought I'd get that out of the way. Awww... now everybody thinks I'm mean. I'm really not, it's just late at night and I had to do spring cleaning today. FORGIVE ME!!!


	3. She Looks Like Sleep

No, it's not a cruel, sadistic joke! I have actually finished Chapter Three! This may not seem like such a big deal, but I've only had time to write about a paragraph a night, so this took forEVER. But now it's up and I can do my I'm-not-a-crappy-writer dance! tapitty tap tap  
  
Well, anyway, please review. You can help speed the process! If I get enough reviews I may do something drastic, like write instead of sleep form 12:30 to 5:45 (my only real available time at the moment)! That wouldn't make my doctor happy but, hey! It'd go faster!

* * *

Draco lay stretched across his bed with Pansy, Blaise, and Theodore staring over his shoulder at the paper in shock.  
  
_Romeo- Draco Malfoy_  
  
"It has to be some kind of mistake." Nott stated.  
  
"Right." Draco nodded.  
  
"Duh." Pansy replied, narrowing her pink-tinted eyelashes.  
  
"Wait, why 'duh'?" Draco asked shifting to face her.  
  
"Well, I mean can you imagine? Draco Malfoy... ROMEO!"  
  
"I gotta agree with Pansy, Draye. Not that you would have any trouble just...." Theodore replied.  
  
"Romeo is sweet and romantic and deep and you're... Malfoy." Blaise continued.  
  
"I could do it if I wanted to." Draco frowned.  
  
"We know that. But you don't want to." Pansy cocked her head to the side quizzically. "Do you?"  
  
"Of course not." Draco snapped. "But... I mean... it is the main part. And..."  
  
"And Potter _didn't _get it." Theodore looked enlightened.  
  
"No." Malfoy's eyes glittered. "No, he didn't."

* * *

Ginny stood by as Ron held his cast sheet at arms length before bringing close to his face and then holding it out again.  
  
"Malfoy." Harry stated dully. "Malfoy is playing Romeo."  
  
"Across from my _sister_!" Ron suddenly realized. "Oh my god! I'm going to kill him!"  
  
"Ron," Hermione began, once again the voice of reason. "You can't kill Malfoy just because he was cast as Romeo."  
  
"Oh, I can't?" Ron looked at her. "And why not?"  
  
"I agree with Hermione, Ron." Harry chimed in. " I'm afraid we'll need some sort of excuse before murdering him, or we're bound to get in trouble."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Okay, here's a reason. Ferret-boy has to kiss my sister!"  
  
"What, they _kiss_?" Harry looked at his book in confusion. "Where does it say that?"  
  
"I don't know." Ron huffed. "But I saw the play once with my dad! I didn't understand any of it... But they definitely kissed!"  
  
"Okay, then, let's kill him!"  
  
"Harry!" Hermione rolled her eyes again.  
  
"What?" Harry grinned at her. "You know, you do that too much. Someday your eyes are going to get stuck like that!"  
  
"Yeah, like Neville when he messed up on physical metamorphosis in Potions!" Ron exclaimed.  
  
"Yeah, and Snape tried to fix it and some of it spilt on him...!" Hermione dissolved into giggles.  
  
"Oh my lord! That was almost as funny as the time when...."  
  
With a little sigh of frustration, Ginny picked up her books and turned to go upstairs. They'd obviously forgotten she was there. She didn't quite know what to think of the whole Malfoy-Romeo thing. After all, it couldn't be _that_ bad...  
  
Wait. It was Malfoy. It was bound to be bad. And she'd have to kiss him...

But, kissing Malfoy wasn't the real problem. It was more of kissing Malfoy, or anyone for that matter, in front of people. People like Ron and Harry and... well, everyone!  
  
People were definitely not Ginny's thing.  
  
People weren't Draco Malfoy's thing either. Though, it was hardly the same. But, hey! At least they had some common ground.

* * *

Draco had been trying to understand Romeo and Juliet since he had received the letter on Friday. Now, Monday morning, he had officially grasped that the play took place in Verona; two kids fell in love, and died in the end. He didn't think he could pass with that.  
  
"'Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?' Okay, Romeo's a loser. I get that."  
  
Draco ran his hand through his hair, talking more to himself that to Nott, who was sitting in front of him staring ponderously at his copy of Romeo and Juliet.  
  
"Did he just ask where they're have dinner?" Theodore asked, incredulously . "I think he did. But that can't be right, they're talking about love. 'Oh, gee I love her. So much, I'll ramble on for hours! My _love_, who I'm not even going to end up with, because I'm a fickle jerk! Ah! Where are we going to have dinner?'. I don't understand!"  
  
"You see, this is why muggle literature should never be forced upon ignorant young wizards." Blaise smiled from across the room. "Lesser minds cannot comprehend such complexities."  
  
"That's easy for you to say," Draco cast a glare in her direction. "You only have one line."  
  
"But what a line it is!" Grinning, she wrapped her velvet-green cloak around her shoulders and walked out the door. "'Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe!'"  
  
Theodore shook his head.  
  
"Some people just...."  
  
"Says the guy with five lines." Draco cut him off.  
  
"Good point." He nodded. "Maybe you should get Pansy to help you. She definitly has more than five lines."  
  
"I don't think so. The last time I saw her she was screaming 'Mrs. Ron Weasley' and stabbing the mirror with some lip gloss."  
  
"Yeah. Who would have thought she'd take it so personally."  
  
Pansy had indeed taken it personally. She hated Weasley, almost as much as Draco himself. The Weasleys and the Parkinsons didn't have the rivalry that they did with the Malfoys, but the resentment was still there. This didn't really influence Pansy, though. Most of her resentment seemed to stem from pug-nose comments.  
  
Draco didn't really understand Weasley's perception of beauty. Sure Pansy's nose was a little squashed (by her own admittance) but it wasn't that much of an eyesore.  
  
The whole "Pug-Nose Parkinson" thing bothered her more than she let on, Draco knew.  
  
_ "Do you really think I'm THAT ugly? I mean I know my nose is all wrong and I'm too short and a little chubby but... Well, you know what? Never mind. Who cares what Weasley thinks anyway."_  
  
But she did. Draco hated that.  
  
Even if he didn't like Pansy in THAT way, it didn't mean he thought she was ugly. When she wasn't snarling, she really wasn't that bad looking. Pretty even. Weasley's insults would anger anyone who cared for Pansy.  
  
Which Draco didn't.  
  
And besides, he reminded himself, who cared if something hurt Pansy's feelings or not. Malfoy's didn't care about that sort of thing, anyway.  
  
"Why are you poking me?" Draco snarled angrily. Nott recoiled quickly, as if he'd realized he was poking a cobra by mistake.  
  
"We... have... class. Remember?"  
  
"Yeah." Draco threw his copy of Romeo and Juliet into his bag. "Yeah, right."

* * *

_'Don't look at him. Don't look at him. Whatever you do, don't look at him. Just stare strait ahead. Listen to Sinclair. Don't look at Malfoy. Just don't look at...'  
_  
"Miss Weasley? Hello? Are you listening to me?"  
  
Ginny snapped out of her thoughts.  
  
"Yes? Professor... Sinclair?"  
  
Ginny blinked, staring straight into the face that was barely a foot from her own. Professor Sinclair was leaned over her desk staring curiously, her glasses on the very tip of her nose.  
  
"Do you... um... yes?" Ginny stammered, moving backwards.  
  
"We're on page 'But Montague is bound as well as I, in penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, for men so old to keep the peace'. Where are you?"  
  
"Page... eight?"  
  
"Uh _HUH_." Professor Sinclair nodded in smug satisfaction and turned, walking down the aisle, hot pink robes billowing after her.  
  
"Well." Professor Sinclair reached the front of the classroom, turning to face the half-asleep students. "I think it's about time to start."  
  
"Start what exactly?" One of the Slytherins asked, skeptically.  
  
"Well, you know." Silence. "Our play! Like-thingy."  
  
"Today?"  
  
"Why not today?" Sinclair looked confused.  
  
"Because we haven't had time to memorize, you imbecile." Apparently Malfoy couldn't stay out of any conversation involving degrading a teacher.  
  
"Well," The blond professor looked stumped. "You can use your books."  
  
"Then what's the point?" Malfoy wanted to know. "Why are we even doing this?"  
  
"Because it'll be fun." Professor Sinclair said with finality. "Now get changed."  
  
With a wave of her wand, a curtain appeared on the left side of the room. With a triumphant grin she pulled a huge cord on one side. Behind it was rack after rack of clothes. There were tights and feather caps, medieval gowns and coats with tails. There were peasant costumes and queen's robes, lace-up boots and satin slippers. And all housed in a room that seemed to stretch forever, housing mirrors and even sitting areas, equipped with couches and coffee tables.  
  
For once, even Malfoy didn't have a sarcastic comment.  
  
"Uh huh, yeah, that's nice."  
  
Well, almost.  
  
"But really, I think you should try to make it more _muggle_." Malfoy drawled, sarcastically. "It takes so much imagination after all."  
  
Professor Sinclair tapped her wand on her chin thoughtfully.  
  
"Hmm... You think so?"  
  
She was met with silence.  
  
"Maybe later! Tick tock you know! Now get dressed everybody!" She gestured with her wand and Ginny noticed that it sparkled the same color pink as her robes.  
  
"I think you'll find that knowing the right costume is easy!"  
  
Looking at each other cautiously, the students got up almost as one, and walked into the hanger.  
  
"Wow." One of the upper class Gryffindors whispered, feeling a noble's dress then cautiously picking it up. "This ones mine."  
  
'How can she tell?' Ginny wondered, slowly stepping into the room.  
  
But once she was inside it was quite easy to tell. Among thousands of dresses on one wall, one gown seemed to be shockingly perceptible, almost glowing in contrast. Ginny lightly ran her fingers down the satin frond, tracing the ribbons and tiny pearls.  
  
"I am not wearing tights!" An objective voice rang through the space, immediately snapping Ginny out of her reverie.  
  
"Now Mister Malfoy," Sinclair's patient voice sounded. "They aren't tights they're... very manly leggings."  
  
"They're tights and I will not wear them. I'm a Malfoy, not a dancer for the ballet!" Malfoy sniffed.  
  
"Well, I don't have any Shakespearian jeans!" Professor Sinclair exclaimed.  
  
"Shakespearian... what?" Malfoy looked confused.  
  
"They're pants, Malfoy." Ron piped in, looking smug.  
  
"Like... Dragonhide pants?" Pansy Parkinson asked, looking as confused as the rest of the Slytherins, but appearing slightly more interested that Malfoy, who looked as if he might not bat an eye if his tights had suddenly come alive and brutally attacked Ron.  
  
"Sort of. They're cut the same way. But, really, they feel way different. Kind of like the inside of a Banarae coat. And they're usually blue. So, they call them blue jeans."  
  
"Ah. The light is shed. Thanks to Weasley, the muggle dictionary." Malfoy drawled.  
  
Ron glared.  
  
"Says Malfoy, the only ferret ballet dancer. How do you think you're going to fit in those teeny tiny little tights?" He replied.  
  
"You got something to say, fuchsia boy?" Malfoy gestured to the costume folded over Ron's arm.  
  
Ron pinkened.  
  
"It's more magenta really." The formerly silent professor spoke up.  
  
"Say, I'm getting some negative vibes here." She gestured to the herd of Gryffindors behind Ron, then to the mass of Slytherins behind Malfoy, both of which looked ready to jump on the other. "Is there some kind of... rivalry I should know about?"  
  
"You really are clueless aren't you." A drawling voice sounded from the doorway.  
  
"'Lo Professor Snape!" Sinclair sounded happily. "We're getting ready to start our first scene! Did you need something?"  
  
"No, I just have so much free time on my hands I decided to come visit." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.  
  
"Well, how lovely!" The blond gushed.  
  
Snape ignored this comment.  
  
"I'm here because a letter arrived in Hogsmeade this morning. Muggle post. Someone actually addressed it 'To Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry'. The Ministry is in an uproar. Can you imagine how many muggles had to be memory wiped?"  
  
Professor Sinclair was starring out the window.  
  
"It's addressed to a Clair Sinclair." Snape rolled his eyes.  
  
Sinclair jumped.  
  
"Ooh!" She waved her hand in the air. "That's me! I'm Clair Sinclair!"  
  
"You would be." Snape glared. Dropping the letter on her desk, he swept out.  
  
Grinning like a kid on Christmas, Sinclair began opening the letter with the tip of her wand.  
  
"Umm...," She seemed to realize everyone was staring at her. "You can start now."  
  
The back half of the room suddenly shifted into a stage, set with houses and statues and even real grass and birds.  
  
"Scene One, Act One, Play One. Go."  
  
There was a frantic scramble as everyone tried to pull on their costumes and find their scripts.  
  
"Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene, from ancient grudge breaks to new mutiny...."  
  
Ginny's stomach lurched sickeningly. An hour and a half left. There was no way they could not get to scene three by then. She couldn't go out there.  
  
"I can't go out there." She whispered to no one, turning to fleeing to the other side of the room. "I can't."

* * *

Draco watched, half asleep, as the first scene played out. The only interesting part had been when Potter and Terrance Higgs, who utterly despised Malfoy after he had lost the Seeker position to him three years ago, where supposed to sword fight. It would have been quite rewarding, Draco thought, if they had killed each other and saved him the trouble.  
  
But Professor Sinclair said they'd save that for tomorrow (as she had forgotten to transfigure _swords_) and any attempt Higgs made to attack Potter was, of course, thwarted.  
  
Draco's "dinner" scene was also with Potter. Potter who, of course, spouted off Shakespeare like it was an old nursery rhyme.  
  
Draco felt that if he heard one more "thou" he would scream.  
  
Luna Lovegood, in her enormous chicken wire costume was just saying, in an unnecessarily loud voice.  
  
"God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!" Silence. "What, Juliet!" Still silence. Screwing up her face, Lovegood shrieked in a unbearably high-pitched voice, "WHAT, JULIET!!!"  
  
Malfoy scanned the room lazily, but the only shock of red hair he saw was Ron Weasley's.  
  
"Romeo," Professor Sinclair didn't even look up as Luna Lovegood continued to scream the same line over and over again. "Could you go get Juliet?"  
  
"If you mean me," Draco drawled. "I certainly cannot. Or _will _not, at any rate."

Then again, anything to get away from Luna's cries of 'What, Juliet!'.  
  
Rolling his eyes, he pushed himself off of the sofa. Looking around, he sighed exasperatedly. Were the hell had Weasley gotten to anyway?  
  
Scrutinizing the room irritably Draco found himself in the back, not seeing anyone. The room seemed to go on forever, until he had to squint to see the stage and the voices had died into a low murmur.  
  
Over the echo of his footsteps off the walls, he thought he heard something, like a shifting of satin. Turning to his right, he saw a small piece of red peeking over one of the sofas.  
  
Ah. Well. No need to act interested, though. This would be the perfect time to do a little... _redeeming_.

* * *

Ginny wrapped her arms around her legs, laying her head sideways on her knees. Someone was bound to find her eventually. If they did she'd just have to do the scene. Her first line was... her first line... was...  
  
Every line Ginny had learned was there, swirling around in one mass of words. But, feeling sick and dizzy, she couldn't put the words together, everything whirling and twirling around her mind, closing in and getting tighter until she couldn't hear, couldn't breath, for the roaring sound in her ears and the horrible tumbling in her stomach.  
  
"Weasley," A voice spoke over the noise. "Weasley, it's your scene."  
  
Ginny's stomach heaved violently.  
  
"Weasley. Weasley?"  
  
Vision swimming, Ginny squeezed her eyes shut as her stomach lurched and she vomited her lunch onto the floor.  
  
Barely hearing Malfoy's almost concerned voice she slipped sideways, unconscious.

* * *

Okay, so I didn't reach my objective for this chapter. It'll happen next, I swear! This just seemed like the perfect place to end it.  
  
So, will Draco take Ginny in his arms and rush in a flustered daze to the hospital wing all the while calling her by her name in a caring voice? Pffft, yeah right! You may have figured out by now that my Draco is not exactly a cream puff.  
  
He's more like a metal pinecone.

I have been informed (by Thaelia), that the scene where they're choosing costumes is kind of doofy. However, I couldn't bring myself to cut it. Gods, if you could see it the way it is in my head, you couldn't either!

Please, review! It's a kind thing to do!


	4. Into the Law of Children

After no less than four months, I have updated. I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself. Well... Actually, I'm quite proud! I'm in my groove again! waves flags YEAH!  
  
**Disclaimer:** Why do you even ask? Why? RUB SALT IN MY WOUND, WHY DON'T YA!!!! AAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

* * *

_Void.  
  
Darkness.  
  
It loomed all around her, empty and ominous.  
  
"Hello?" Her voice rang into the abyss, finding noting to echo off of. "Is someone there?"  
  
No answer, only blackness. Now Fear began to surface and Terror sunk its claws into her mercilessly, making her feel like a small child lost and afraid.  
  
"Someone! Please! Anyone!"  
  
She was panicking. There was no one to hear her, no one to answer. She had never felt so hopelessly empty, so alone.  
  
"I'm here." The voice was slick and smooth and so horribly familiar.  
  
A shiver went up her spine, and she felt Dread ripping at the pit of her stomach.  
  
"I'm here." It said again, chillingly, mockingly.  
  
"No." Her voice quivered. "No! I don't want you here!" Now she was screaming. "Go away! I don't want you!"  
  
The darkness seemed to be speaking, now; the voice surrounded her.  
  
"Liar."_

* * *

Ginny Weasley awoke with a start. She was soaked with sweat, breathing hard. She could shill feel the terror; that ache in her gut was still there.  
  
She pulled herself into a sitting position, hearing the rustle of fabric as she buried her head in the knees. Stifling a sob, she tried to collect her thoughts.  
  
She was sitting on a couch in a large, darkened classroom.  
  
And she was alone.

* * *

For once, Draco Malfoy was actually relaxed. He was the only student in the library today, which was, probably, a result of him being there at all. And he was quite proud of it, too.  
  
Nestled in a leather chair, basking in the sun coming from a nearby window, the Serpent Prince flipped lazily through a copy of Romeo and Juliet. He wasn't really reading it, but he was distantly wondering why said couple were conversing about pilgrims and shrines.  
  
Slipping past a film of ennui, a thought surfaced.  
  
_'I wonder if she'll come.'_

__

* * *

__

This same question was, in fact, on Ginny's mind as well. However, her thoughts were more along the lines of what, oh what, did Malfoy plan to do to her.  
  
She glanced again at the crumpled note in her fist. It wasn't signed, but she knew who it was from. The graceful, refined lettering, the ink tinted silver, the expensive parchment, they all pointed to Ginny's blond- haired tormentor as the author.  
  
"Come to the library after classes." Hardly an eloquent message, but purely Malfoy.  
  
Of course she would go, that wasn't really a question. She didn't need to be put on Malfoy's torture list. Though, she suspected, it was a little late for that.  
  
_'Malfoy, what, oh what, are you planning.'_

__

* * *

__

Looking up from _Astronomy: Light of the Heavens_ ("Draco, the serpent constellation..." Hardly coincidental, and a little funny.), the aforementioned constellation regarded the tiny redhead peeking nervously around the library. He could almost hear her thoughts.  
  
_'No one's here... He's not here! I don't see him! He didn't show! He..._ AHH!_'_  
  
She screamed when she turned around, finally seeing him.  
  
Draco wondered why all Weasleys were as jumpy as rabbits. Multiplied like them, too. Hmm, that was funny. Too bad he hadn't said it out loud.

* * *

"Come now Weasley, I'm not that scary." He said in a voice that reminded her of a fox in the stories she had read as a child.  
  
Like the heroine in those stories, Ginny couldn't seem to make her body move.  
  
"Come sit down. Don't worry, I don't bite."  
  
_'Come into my lair, little rabbit. Don't worry, I'm a vegetarian.'_  
  
Mechanically, Ginny pulled out the chair across from him, unable to brake away under his mesmerizing gaze.  
  
She looked around the library anxiously, but it seemed to be completely empty. The magnitude of this situation suddenly struck her. She was alone, in an empty room, with Draco Malfoy. This was very, very bad.  
  
Where was Madame Pince? Normally, Ginny would love her absence but... Didn't that woman know not to leave students (well, Malfoy at least) unguarded! What if he decided to practice some Dark Arts on her! Not that he actually would.

She thought.  
  
She turned back to Malfoy, trying desperately not to look terrified.

* * *

Draco was enjoying this immensely. Weasley was really squirming, now. It was all he could do to keep from clapping his hands in glee.  
  
Did that make him demented?  
  
Probably.  
  
He could here Blaise's voice in his head.  
  
_"You have some sort of complex, you know that?"_  
  
That was probably true, too. He'd have to look into it.  
  
In the meantime, he'd watch Weasley play with a button on her robe. After all, he wasn't going to start the conversation.  
  
Let her sweat.

* * *

Ginny was getting more nervous by the second. Why didn't he say anything? He just... sat there, staring at her with those hypnotic gray eyes, obviously enjoying himself.  
  
"So, uhh," Ginny started. "You, umm, you wanted to see me?"  
  
That sounded stupid, like he was her boss or her king or something.

* * *

Draco loved it.

* * *

Malfoy's eyes lit up.  
  
"Oh, yes. I did."  
  
Ginny broke eye contact, hoping she would regain her natural thought process.  
  
"Now tell me, little Weasel," He reached for a copy of Romeo and Juliet. "What does that say?"  
  
Ginny eyed him warily, slowly taking the book from his hand. He was putting her in her comfort zone before he dashed her to bits, she knew it!  
  
"'Alas, that love, so gentle in his view is muffled still, should without eyes see pathway to his will! Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was....'"  
  
Malfoy cut her off.  
  
"Yeah, yeah right." He pointed to line eight. "What does that mean?"  
  
Ginny stared at him. No way he asked her here just to... No way.  
  
"I'm, umm, I'm pretty sure he's just asking were they're eating dinner."  
  
Malfoy blinked at her.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah, pretty...."  
  
This was so weird.

* * *

Okay, Shakespeare was random. Why was he being forced to play some random, muggle, IDIOT?  
  
Weasley was still staring at him. Oh, yes. This _would_ be fun.

* * *

"All right, here's the thing, Weasley." He spoke so suddenly that it startled her. "I don't want to look like an idiot up there. Now, I think you owe me. Why?" The question never made it out of her lips. "Well, I healed your hand, for one. I told Sinclair you went to Madame Pomfrey. I also told you teachers. Now, as you well know, I don't usually do charity work. You owe me."  
  
Ginny couldn't believe her ears.  
  
"So... you want me to tutor you in Shakespeare?"  
  
He shrugged.  
  
"It has been pointed out that I have an overdeveloped sense of pride. Also vengeance." He added pointedly.  
  
"Umm....."  
  
_'Don't do it Ginny! Bad! Bad Ginny! Remember the fox! This is Malfoy! Think of motives! No, Ginny, NO!"_  
  
"Okay." She whispered weakly.  
  
Malfoy grinned evilly as he shook her hand.  
  
"Perfect."

* * *

Whoa. Is it just me or is my Draco, like, sadistic. No? Not me? Oh. Didn't think so. So what did you think? Too short? Too angsty? Too wordy? Tell me! It really won't make a difference but... reviews are my strength!  
  
This _is_ getting quite angsty... It's like I have the Angst!Bunny and the Fluff!Bunny ripping at either side of my muse.Reviews me likey. 


	5. This Orb O’ the Earth

**Disclaimer:** Yes, when I rule the world ALL will belong to me. Even Harry Potter! And I will force them to remove half of the hair gel from Tom Felton's hair and he will wear those tight black shirts throughout all of the movie, not just in Flourish & Blots! You cannot stop ME!!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!

Okay, I took a little break. But, hey! I'm back with more! CHEER MY PEOPLE! Or run. You can... do that too, I guess.

siiiiigh

**Note:** Both Terrance Higgs and Theodore Nott are canon, canon, canon (Look it up)! Terrance could have only been a seeker for a year, and be one year older than Harry and Co. No one really knows. I'm saying that's the case, so trust me. If it's not canon (GoF and below!) and cannot be _interpreted _as canon, I won't write it. 'Nuf said.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had the astounding ability to attract enemies like sugar attracts flies. Even the Slytherins were sometimes surprised at how many people thought of him as their "rival". Even more surprising was the fact that he didn't even seem to care who was plotting to kill him next, as long as he wasn't plotting against them as well.

Terrance Higgs hated him as much as anybody. He had been the Slytherin seeker before Malfoy _bought_ his way onto the team. He was a much better player and that ignorant little second year had just...! Just...!

But he would get him back. Terrance would have his retribution. After all, who could blame him? The smirking little ferret didn't know who he was messing with. After six years of resentment, just a little pay back might be in order. Terrance stifled a chuckle. But then again, why not execute revenge on a grander scale?

Malfoy could handle it, couldn't he?

Grinning to wickedly to himself, Terrence Higgs noiselessly closed the library door.

* * *

"So, so, so." Clair Sinclair tapped her hot-pink high heels on the tile. "Uhhuh. So, then. Yes."

Professor Snape wondered if she was having some kind of seizure. She had been standing in the middle of the Teachers Lounge for almost thirty minutes now, pacing back and forth and mumbling to herself. Was this normal behavior for a muggle? He wondered.

"Ahh!" She squealed excitedly causing Professor McGonagall to drop her textbook.

"What is it?" A plumb, blond professor asked sounding concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, fine, thank you! I just got an idea." Everyone else in the room got the idea that the new professor was insane.

* * *

The Muggle Arts class was beyond thinking that Sinclair was crazy. They knew it.

Today, she was dressed for Elizabethan court life. The huge, white wig she was wearing was only rivaled in size by a bell-shaped skirt that hit the students on the front row in the face, when she turned.

This was actually quite comical, if you sat in the back.

Draco was enjoying the show very much. He supposed Sinclair had to teach something other than Romeo and Juliet because today she had come in with a large, probably muggle, book entitled "The Top 500 Poems".

Sinclair seemed to get "pumped up" easily. For someone who was so excited about Romeo and Juliet, she didn't seem to care at all that Fudge's policies forced her to do a unit on poetry.

"Oh, I just know you'll love this!" She gushed, on and on. She wasn't really convincing anyone.

Pansy leaned over, her dark hair obstructing his view.

"Where were you yesterday? I couldn't find you anywhere." She whispered in a not-so-quite voice.

"I had... business."

"What kind of business?" She asked. "What about?"

"_Business_." Draco stated unhelpfully.

Pansy nodded.

"Pulling the wings of butterflies again, aye Malfoy?"

Draco's smirk was almost a smile.

"Something like that."

* * *

Ginny Weasley's voice rolled through the air above the classroom, as she read the poem to dead silence. Professor Sinclair had picked the right person for the job, after all. In a voice soft, but deep, Ginny seemed to bring words to life, creating in the air a dark, blue mood that could merit only nods and stares, as the words wisped past the students, curling around them as if to comfort them and then disappearing into darkness.

_"Nobody heard him, the dead man, _

_But still he lay moaning: _

_I was much further out than you thought _

_And not waving but drowning. _

_Poor chap, he loved larking _

_And now he's dead _

_It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, _

_They said. _

_Oh, no no no, it was too cold always _

_(Still the dead one lay moaning) _

_I was much too far out all my life _

_And not waving but drowning."_

__

* * *

__

"I've made a deal with the devil." Ginny mumbled numbly to herself. "I'm going to hell. Malfoy is going to drag me down with him. Fire. Brimstone. Screams of agony. The smell of burnt flesh. The..."

"Umm. Weasley?"

Ginny jumped a few feet, her papers flying everywhere.

"Are you... talking to yourself?" The boy looked down at her and his sandy blond hair fell into his face. A Slytherin badge gleamed on his chest.

"Uh, no? Well, kind of, um..." Had all of the Slytherins got together and decided it was Torture Ginny Week? Seriously.

"I was just passing through and wanted to make sure you were okay." He bent down to get her papers. "You are okay, right?"

As he handed her the stack he gave her a little half smile and his hair brushed against her forehead. He smelled like cinnamon.

Ginny felt a blush cross her face and suddenly her heart was racing. Who was this guy?

"I... I am." Great. Now she even sounded flushed. "Why are... Why are you helping me?"

She was sure her Gryffindor badge was on. He could tell, of course. Couldn't he?

"Why shouldn't I?" Green eyes, like his badge. "Oh, right. The Slytherin thing. Well, you should know. We aren't all as bad as _Prince Malfoy_ would have you believe. Some of us love helping damsels in distress."

His voice was teasing. Ginny shook her head slightly.

_'Chill out, Gin. Just because some guy's nice to you is no reason to...'_

"Well, see you around." He chirped happily.

"Hey, wait!" She called, against her better judgement. "Your name's... Higgs right?"

He grinned. "That's right. Terrance Higgs."

* * *

Okay, yes, I know that was short. But I felt like I had to put something out there to motivate myself. You know what else motivates me? REVIEWS!!!!

Ah, reviews. They are neither mineral nor vegetable nor animal, but something much, much more divine. The ambrosia of the gods. Yes, preeeeeeeeeeecious!

By the way, the poem "Not Waving But Drowning" is was written by Stevie Smith (who WAS a woman). And the hell speech is copyright Fruits Basket. I just couldn't resist.  
  
**And (yes, more explanation from the author):** It has been pointed out by my so-called peeps ( throws things at Thaelia and Mnwugn) that this chapter has no point or place in the plot. You are WRONG, WRONG, WRONG. You were introduced to a central character, first of all, and events were set in motion that have a major place in the storyline! So go back and read it again, if you still think it's a filler chapter! grumbles Ramblings... Feh...


	6. Break It To Our Hope

**Discaimer:** Ahhhh.... Finally, the chapter is up and I can rest. snooooooore MONKEYS!!!! Huh... whaaa? Don't own... yeah, whatever. zzzzzzzzzzz

Sorry this is taking so long. I'm working on another fic (Coming soon! Weee!) and have refused to post it 'till I'm done. So all of my time and effort are going into that, right now.  
  
**Note:** Yes, another one. Chris Nott is Theodore Nott again. grumble grumbleTurns out, he is an important character in JK's mind, so I can't alter him. Darn it! Well, I found out his history by the way. I think I'll work it in somewhere.  
  
(Go to www.jkrowling.com. It's really interesting! Turns out, Ginny's real name IS Ginevra.)

* * *

"'What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without an apology?' So...?"  
  
"So... 'The date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, bearing a tartar's painted bow of lath, scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper...'"  
  
"Gods!" Malfoy shouted again. "Stop would you!"  
  
Ginny was getting really tired of this. Every few lines he would stop, insult her, get her to explain, insult her again, and then read on.  
  
"What is it saying?"  
  
Ginny sighed.  
  
"It really doesn't matter. They're talking about..."  
  
Malfoy glared at her, his blond hair falling over his eyes, somehow making him seem even more threatening.  
  
"You don't know, do you?" He stated; it wasn't really a question.  
  
She shook her head, staring over his shoulder.  
  
"W..."  
  
"Draco!" A female voice called out.  
  
They were sitting on an overgrown stairway, partially crumbling with age. It was out of the way, and Ginny hadn't even known it was there. She had been minding her own business; simply walking along and Malfoy had suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the hallway. She wasn't feeling at all comfortable as she was, once again, alone with the blond, devil-spawn also known as Ferret-boy.  
  
Across from her, Malfoy visibly stiffened and then relaxed as Pansy Parkinson rounded the corner of a broken wall.  
  
"Oh good, I found you. I need your help. Okay, Millicent got a hold of some slugs, see, and..." She trailed off as her eyes rested on the youngest Weasley. "And I... umm..."  
  
"And you what?" Malfoy looked bored and completely oblivious to the awkward silence.  
  
Parkinson shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts, and joined Malfoy in ignoring Ginny's presence.  
  
"What happened was..." The Slytherin girl looked over at Ginny pointedly and then leaned in to whisper in Malfoy's ear.  
  
A few moments later, he gave a snort of disbelief and rose to his feet, thrusting Romeo and Juliet into his bag. Without saying a word to her, the two blonds sauntered off. It infuriated Ginny when Malfoy acted like that, as if she didn't matter at all.  
  
"Pansy, it really should have been a simple drought spell."  
  
So, Ginny was left to wonder about Malfoy's extreme dislike of her...  
  
...and what exactly slugs and evaporating water had in common.

* * *

"You've cast _Draco Malfoy_ as Romeo?" Professor McGonagall asked incredulously.  
  
Clair Sinclair raised her almost perfectly round eyes from her cast list to gaze up as the disbelieving expressions of every other teacher in the Staff Room. Everyone had suddenly gone quiet.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Opposite _Ginny Weasley_?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The silence was deafening. It was broken finally as this registered and the teachers reacted accordingly. Professor Flitwick dropped a large stack of papers. Professor Snape choked on his drink.  
  
"Well," McGonagall tried to look encouraging. "Well, it could work. It won't be easy but- for Merlin's sake Snape, why were you drinking in the Staff Room in the first place? - But it is possible."  
  
"Of course it's possible." Said Sinclair, looking slightly confused. "I know that."  
  
"Right." Snape scoffed disbelievingly, having recovered from his coughing fit.  
  
It was silent again, and everyone returned one-by-one to what they had been doing before the interruption. That was, until Professor Sinclair broke the peace with a comment, made in her happiest voice.  
  
"You know who would make the cutest couple?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley."  
  
Snape started choking again.

* * *

The Gryffindor Three were making their way to the Great Hall.  
  
"So, Ron." Said Hermione, flipping through her Charms textbook as the walked. "How are you getting on with Parkinson?"  
  
Ron looked mildly surprised.  
  
"With Parkinson? The usual. Why?"  
  
Hermione looked at him.  
  
"You don't-."  
  
At that instance Harry grabbed her arm rather roughly and whispered, "Don't tell him."  
  
"I don't what?"  
  
"Oh, nothing Ron."  
  
Harry wanted to keep the unpleasant revelation that he, Ron, was married to Pansy "Pug-Face" Parkinson for the next several months to himself as long as he could. Ron was a bit slow on these things sometimes. Perhaps he wouldn't pick up for a while.  
  
This hope was dashed, however, as Pansy and her girl-goons rounded the corner. A nasty look pulled itself across the Slytherin girl's face, causing her to look more like a pug that ever. She had been heading for the doors into the Great Hall but swerved sharply, making her way straight towards Ron.  
  
She stopped directly in front of him, placing her hands on her hips. Her scowl deepened and she looked him up and down, as best she could. Ron was very tall and Pansy, who was rather short for her age, only came up to his lower torso. Never the less, Ron looked very threatened indeed.  
  
"You," She hissed. "You keep on smiling, why don't you, Weasley. Enjoy what time you have. Because come Thursday, you- are- _mine_."  
  
She punctuated each word with a poke in the stomach. Harry was sure she wanted to poke him in the chest but couldn't reach it comfortably.  
  
"Uhh..." Said Ron, intelligently.  
  
"Hear me, Weasley?" She began poking again. "You- will- _pay_."  
  
She ended this sentence with her hardest poke yet, sneering up at him. Then, she turned on her heel and continued into the Great Hall. Smirking, Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass followed her in. Pansy slammed the doors behind her.  
  
"Blimey," Breathed Ron. "What was that about?"  
  
Hermione shook her head.  
  
"Come here, Ron."  
  
Harry left it to Hermione, continuing into the Great Hall. He took a swig of pumpkin juice, waiting for a moment. All the way at the Gryffindor table, he could hear Ron's screams.

* * *

When Malfoy entered the library, Ginny was studying Transfiguration. She decided to pretend she didn't see him. He planted himself at the table behind her and she continued to read.  
  
_Thump._  
  
A ball of parchment bounced off the table. Ginny acted as if she hadn't noticed.  
  
_Thump._  
  
This one hit her shoulder, and she buried her face deeper in the book.  
  
_Thump._  
  
Malfoy's quill had hit her in the back of her head. She detached it from her hair, tossing it back at him. She wasn't in the mood to deal with him right now.  
  
_Crash!_

Ginny jumped. Malfoy, tired of being ignored, had thrown his inkwell at her. Madam Pince was stalking towards her, looking livid.  
  
"What do you think you are doing?!?" She screamed.  
  
Ginny froze.  
  
"I-I- Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't- Oh!" She stammered, unable to meet Madam Pince's infuriated gaze.  
  
As the librarian cleaned the ink with a flick of her wand, Ginny hurriedly gathered her books and papers. The shards of glass flew together, once again taking the shape of an inkwell. Ginny grabbed in and bowing low again, muttered another apology.  
  
"I am _so_ sorry, Madam Pince!"  
  
She turned and hurried out of the library.  
  
As she passed, Malfoy whispered, "Hey! Don't go! Scene five, what're they saying in scene five?"  
  
She shut the door behind her and, closing her eyes, leaned against it. She was breathing heavily, as if she had just run a marathon. But when she opened her eyes, she wasn't staring at the castle wall but, once again, into the face of Terrance Higgs.  
  
"Hi!" He said, sounding cheerful. "It's you again, is it? Funny how we keep meeting, huh? Well, they say great minds think alike!"  
  
"Hi." Ginny offered weakly, feeling very relieved to see him. Her books, which were gathered in no particular order, chose this moment to tumble out of her arms.  
  
He laughed, leaning down to pick up her books again.  
  
"You should really get a book bag."  
  
"Yeah." She said, smiling feebly.  
  
She decided not to mention that she had a book bag, only Malfoy had ripped it and she wasn't quite sure how to fix it. Instead, she followed Terrance down the hall, listening as he continued to chatter happily.  
  
"Sorry about Malfoy. He's so immature."  
  
"Oh, you... saw that?"  
  
He nodded, scrunching up his face angrily.  
  
"He infuriates me. Gives us Slytherins a bad name."  
  
Ginny looked at him, surprised. She had never heard of a Slytherin who didn't like Malfoy. It struck her as a little odd but, then again, not every Gryffindor seemed particularly brave. It must be the same with Slytherin."  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Fine!" Ginny flushed. "I'm fine."  
  
"Hey, what were you studying?"  
  
"Transfiguration."  
  
"Have trouble with it?"  
  
Ginny nodded.  
  
"Well, I'm really good at Transfiguration. Want me to help you study?"  
  
"If you- If you want to."  
  
So Ginny spent her afternoon outside, under the shade of a large pine tree, studying with a Slytherin named Terrance Higgs. He wasn't as good at Transfiguration as he had let her believe, but he was funny and he tried. She may not have learned a lot, but she hadn't smiled so much in a long, long time.

* * *

Well, that was longer than the last one, now wasn't it! Sorry again for the wait. I am ashamed.  
  
Oh! And, if anybody's interested, I joined the Terrance Higgs fanlisting. The link's on my profile. What is Nova's reaction? Wow! Terrance is HOTT in the Harry Potter movie! (I haven't seen the first or second movie, due to horrible, horrible circumstances. siiiiiiigh )

I went to go see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban! Yes, it was good. Tom Felton (the actor who plays Draco) was brilliant! Really funny!!! And not bad looking at all, which didn't hurt. - Ron was good and Harry/Hermione shippers everywhere got points major. The story tied together well, in the end.  
  
I had some beefs, yes. But I'll save that rant for another time, shall I? I'm too busy basking in Draco's new hairdo! wubs Yaaaaaaaaay....

Reviews, sil vous plait! 


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